


Let them come down

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [35]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Bad Jokes, Beating, Bruises, HYDRA Husbands, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, no actual rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 08:16:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13807215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: There's a new guy at the free clinic Brock frequents.





	Let them come down

**Author's Note:**

> ????¿¿¿¿

There’s a new guy that goes by the name Jack at the clinic the next time Brock visits. He’s got this agile muscular thing going on that the ladies seem to like from what he hears among the waiting room chatter and from the way some of the nurses linger on him when his back’s turned. It goes with his tall, dark and handsome aesthetic and a quiet way about him despite the aging scar on his face that makes him look like a villain in some action movie about to plan something sinister. When he actually does smile, it’s with perfect white teeth and he also has deep green eyes, ones that keep staring into his when they talk and it’s the kind of amiable attention Brock knows he isn’t worth receiving. 

He stares at anything but Jack while the guy looks over his file and puts a note into it after returning with a bottle of pills he left to retrieve, “Everything else looks good.” 

“Great doc.” He says as he shrugs back on his worn leather jacket over his t-shirt, catching his distorted reflection in the metal paper towel dispenser. He really outta shave soon so he looks less like a bum while working.

“Not yet.” Jack informs him with a small humored smirk as he opens the bottle and gestures at him to hold his hand out, shaking two out before turning for the sink to get some water. “That’s your first dose and just take a second in twelve hours. You’ll need to finish them off. The pills should clear that cough up in about a few days, if not, come back and see me.”

Brock takes the offered dose and paper cup, always dreading the way they feel weird going down his throat and he chases it immediately with the water as Jack watches him. He slips the bottle into his pocket and gets off the examination bed, giving him a nod, “Will do.” 

“Take care of yourself, don’t make it worse.” Is the last thing Jack says to him, eyes soft and it’s like he really genuinely cares. It bothers Brock, preferring the last doctor they had running the joint, or hell even the nurses. They were all used to him coming and going, everything was automatic and kept out of his business. He got his blood tests done, a handful of condoms and he was out the door like any other day without thinking too much about it all.

Outside he shoves his hands into his pockets and he can’t help tracing the pill bottle, wrapping fingers around it securely as he walks back to his SRO with his head ducked low.

*****

As time moves on, Brock notices that no matter when he shows up, Jack’s there working at the clinic. He’ll come in like he usually does, check himself with the girl at the counter and sit in the waiting room next to others with a newspaper he’s squirreled away from someone that’s left it on a bus stop bench or on top of a trash bin lid. He skims over various headlines with his legs stretched out as if he’s home alone and ignores everyone around him as much as he can. The corner of his eye will catch a white coat exit from one of the rooms in the hallway and he’ll automatically look up just to see Jack catch his eye and smile in that familiar way he does.

The more Brock’s there, the more he learns about him. He doesn’t like volunteering information he’s not required to divulge about himself but Jack makes small talk little bits at a time. He’s soft spoken and not intrusive despite Brock’s feelings on the whole ‘getting to know your patients’ route and even with the lack of back and forth, his few words a visit tell Brock lots of things about him.

Things like he’s only grown up a few blocks away from here, that he was an only child who got in trouble a lot feeding scraps to strays instead of to himself and that he wanted to be a veterinarian first and foremost so he could help animals. Brock accidentally finds out he only changed vocations because his mother died somehow (he doesn’t ask Jack the specifics) and he decided he wanted to help people instead even though Brock’s not surprised to hear he still volunteers on occasion at a local shelter. 

It’s all stuff Brock doesn’t need to know but he knows nonetheless. 

Brock’s only there to get done what needs to get done. He’s pliant and obedient for every poke and prod that comes his way. Doesn’t react when his blood is drawn and barely blinks when Jack doesn’t school himself fast enough after he undoes his shirt and his skin is mottled with bruises or he’s sporting a black eye on more than one occasion. They don’t make eye contact about finger shaped bruises across his throat or if he has a split lip. He’s got busted up knuckles too if Jack’s counting so he should get the message clear enough. It’s not really important either way and he usually closes his eyes to avoid the bleeding heart expression Brock’s already seen once and doesn’t wanna see again and goes through the motions of the exam like always. He knows it by heart like other things he tunes out and runs on autopilot for.

*****

Brock sits as still as he can in the exam room, his face fucking hurts and there’s ringing in his ears that seems to be going away but he’s not sure. He can barely keep his good eye open and the other one’s already swollen shut, a nurse he’s on decent terms with already gave him an ice pack for his wrist but his ribs are on fucking fire.

“What the fuck?” Jack hisses out the second he walks in, shoeing the door closed and tossing the chart he was holding onto the counter. “What the hell happened?”

Brock tries to grin but it probably comes out looking like a grimace, that and he’s pretty sure his teeth are tainted red, mouth suddenly tasting much more tinny and copper, “D’ya think I can get worker’s comp for this?” 

Jack doesn’t say anything and Brock can see the way he’s trying not to overreact, cheeks coloring and jaw tightening. He’s given a quick look over in silence and then Jack cleans him up the best he can while fuming before he let’s out a rush of air like he’s been holding it in all this time. “You’re not going back out there, I’m gonna take you home.”

On a normal day, Brock would have laughed. He’s not even sure why he even came. This sure as hell ain’t Pretty Woman and this isn’t the first time, probably not the last, plus he knows how to fix himself up. He supposes he just wanted to see Jack, not sure why, maybe to get lectured. Definitely not there to be taken home by him.

“Yeah, okay.” Brock breathes out instead, bunched shoulders easing up.

He waits in the room a few minutes while Jack leaves to make arrangements and after a long twenty minutes he’s ushered out the back way and to a parked car, the passenger side held open as he climbs in. They drive off in silence, Jack not asking for details and Brock zoning in and out as street lights pass by over and over again. 

Jack’s one bedroom apartment is modest and sparsely furnished, with some kind of reptile tank by the window but it’s clean and it’s warm. Brock can’t hear babies crying through the walls or people talking loudly, or the screaming. It’s a hundred times better than where he’s at and once again he feels himself relax despite the way his body wants to scream. 

Although there’s the charity of somewhere to be instead of going back out there to work, Brock hesitates to touch anything, standing in the entryway a few feet inside. He takes off his leather jacket with a struggle, his one good eye watching Jack itch to assist but not doing it though he does take it to hang up at a hook along the wall. He knows how this goes if he’s not heading back out and painfully works on undoing the top of his shirt buttons one at a time. “I know I ain’t much to look at right now but I’ll make it worth your while. Your couch or the bed? I’d say we could use the floor but I’m really fuckin’ sore right now so maybe we can pass on that ‘til tomorrow mornin’. By then if ya gotta do it there maybe- ”

“Jesus Christ. I didn’t bring you here for that, I don’t want..” Jack breaks off and rubs at his forehead as he glares at the floor. Brock’s pretty sure he’s lying if noticing the ways he’s looked at him from time to time are any measure of credibility. Though, Jack doesn’t say those things and then proceed to get close like some guys do, instead he gestures to the couch. “You need rest and lots of ice. Sit down, I’ll get you some pills too while I’m at it.”

So Brock sits, and looks around while Jack rummages in the kitchen and in his bathroom. He’s not an idiot and he’s clear on the signs he’s picking up with him and the kind of place he lives in. Jack is kind, he’s sweet and he’s lonely, he _knows_ those types, though Brock’s not really sure _why_ he is..lonely that is. He knows the guy’s interested and Brock’s definitely alright with the idea of doing it with him. It’s a trade off, a transaction he’s entirely open to paying for that way.

Jack comes back with heavy duty pain meds that he only hands over after he does a secondary quick exam and is sure he’s not sporting a concussion. He warns him that they’ll make him drowsy and probably knock him out before handing them over too and Brock’s okay with that, bites back a joke about the offer still being good while he’s passed the fuck out. He knows Jack won’t appreciate it and if it turned out the guy was actually _into_ that shit, well whatever he supposes.

He downs the pills and holds a bundled ice pack to his eye, the one on his wrist wilting. Jack kneels down before him and undoes his shirt and Brock let’s him, thinking that maybe he is into that dubious stuff but Jack only takes a third bundled ice pack and presses it against his ribs, focused on tending to his body not in the way Brock had initially anticipated. 

He’s only touched by Jack when he’s being examined for any other bad spots and generally seems content, “You’re gonna be sore but better than anything broken or needing stitches.” 

“Thank God for that, imagine tryin’ to stand around with my arm in a sling or some shit.” Brock attempts another grin with his statement but once again he’s sure it looks too pained. 

Jack frowns and he stops what he’s doing, staring at him and locking his gaze with Brock’s better eye, “Look, I just want you to focus on resting up and getting better. You’re welcome to stay here at no charge and you definitely don’t have to do any favors for it. Please.”

Brock stares back with a smirk, “That’s a shitty way to run things, doc.” 

Shrugging stubbornly, Jack doesn’t look put out, “It’s how I run things, so be it.” 

It’s Brock’s turn to get serious, leaning his back up against the couch despite how his lower body aches a bit when he moves the slightest bit, “Fine, spill it. What’s in this fer you if you can’t even take a blow job as a form of payment? You don’t even know anythin’ about me.” 

“Sure you don’t say a hell of a lot but it’s been a little while and I’ve gathered a comfortable amount about you just by your visits. Maybe you’re not verbal about it, but you sometimes carry about things or focus on stuff you’re interested in, like in the newspapers you read.” Jack gives him an earnest expression, “I like you enough to want to give you a place to take it easy. I wanna give that to you and it’s not innuendo for anything other than just an offer for a safe place to rest.” 

Brock’s still not sure the offer is as innocent as Jack paints it out to be and he doesn’t hold his breath over the fact that the good doctor says he wants nothing else from him. But Brock likes Jack and has already decided he’s allowed to do whatever he likes whenever he likes if he so chooses as currency except if he actually is telling the truth, maybe..just maybe it would be okay to trust one person and let that be him.


End file.
